


My Heart Is Home

by Bizarra



Series: My Heart Is Home [1]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Episode: s05e19 The Fight, F/M, Hurt/Comfort/Sick Trope, JC Tropefest, Missing Scene, They're So Married In This Ep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:14:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23230780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bizarra/pseuds/Bizarra
Summary: A missing scene from The Fight. What happened between Chakotay collapsing on the Bridge, and him being perfectly fine the next day.
Relationships: Chakotay/Kathryn Janeway
Series: My Heart Is Home [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1746490
Comments: 12
Kudos: 60
Collections: Janeway/Chakotay Trope fics, Love Run Free J/C Collection, Outside Perspectives





	My Heart Is Home

**Author's Note:**

> It is no secret that I adore this episode for the fact that, not only is it Kathryn taking care of Chakotay, but it is also crystal clear in this episode that they are all but married. Because marriage isn't just about sex and romance. It's about being there for your loved one. It's about trusting them implicitly, and it's about unconditional love in it's truest form.

_When all else fails, you’re by my side_  
_And tomorrow, I can face it_  
_But I’ve stopped running from my life_  
_All the pieces find their places_  
_My heart is home with you_  
_My heart is home with you_  
_ Sung by: Upstate Written by Graham Colton/Chad Copelin _

Voyager had just cleared Chaotic Space; the danger we were in had passed. Our ambassador slowly staggered from behind the ops station. He nearly reached the railing behind the command center when the Commander lost his footing and dropped. I jumped in and caught one arm, while the captain grabbed the other. Together, we steadied his body, but his head dropped and he wavered, clearly exhausted.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you.” The captain told him softly. Her hand gently drifted over his upper arm, then moved to his chest and up to cup his cheek. Her thumb caressed his sweat dampened skin. She glanced over to her third in command and gave him a nod. “Tuvok, take care of the ship. I’ll be in sickbay,” her eyes moved to meet Chakotay’s tired gaze, “for as long as I need to be.”

“Understood, Captain.” The tall Vulcan replied.

“You don’t have — “ Chakotay started, but she interrupted.

“I do.” She nodded to me and together we helped him into the turbolift.

Once inside the lift, I called for my home deck and stood aside, carefully observing my patient, who was leaning heavily against a combination of the wall and the woman next to him.

Abruptly, the Commander turned and fisted the hair on both sides of the nape of the captain’s neck. He leaned down, his forehead against hers, eyes clenched shut, and muttered, “I’m so tired, Kathryn.” It was a testimony to how exhausted he was, that he forgot to censor himself from the other person in the room. Not that they’ve ever truly hidden themselves from me.

“I know,” she told him softly as her hands rose to his face, gently wiping away the dampness; fingertips brushing through his hair. “I’m sorry you had to do this.”

“Did it for my woman warrior,” he muttered, his breath blowing the hair that framed her face. “And for our tribe.” At that he stumbled and fell to his knees, taking her with him. “I need these voices to go away.”

The Captain winced as her knees hit the floor when they dropped. She held her hand up to halt me as I moved closer. “Are you still hearing the aliens?” She continued massaging her fingers through the edges of Chakotay’s hair, lending as much comfort as she could.

“No.” He ground his head harder into hers, “my grandfather. He’s telling me the voices are his friends.” I could see his frustration mounting, “I don’t want to know them!”

The lift doors slid open on Deck 5. “Let’s get you up and into sickbay. The Doctor can help to quiet the voices.” I heard the captain quietly tell him.

She started to pull away, but he tightened his grip. “No! Don’t leave me alone with them.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Chakotay. I promise.” She assured the panicking man. I could hear the heavy emotion in her voice. I could see her blinking back tears as she reached to untangle his hands from her hair. “Let me help you get up.” She gestured then for my help.

I stepped in and grabbed the Commander under the arms, while he reached to the bulkhead beside him and pushed upward. The captain wrapped her hands around his torso and pulled. Together we managed to get him off the floor and shuffled into the corridor.

Once into sickbay, we settled Chakotay back onto the biobed he’d been on the last few days. The Captain stood next to him, her hand clutched tightly in his. She gently drifted the fingers from her free hand over his tattoo and through his hair.

“Doctor, can you deactivate his gene again?” Kathryn asked as Chakotay muttered incoherently to his, I would assume, unseen grandfather. 

I began an updated medical scan of the Commander’s brain. I’m not comfortable in answering the Captain’s question. I sincerely hope I can fix this, but at the moment, I just don’t know. I clipped the diagnostic wand into its housing on the medical tricorder and looked into the face of a woman, clearly concerned for her loved one, wishing I had better news. “Right now I need for the swelling in his brain to go down. His brief tour as an ambassador has affected his cerebral cortex.” At her distressed look, I quickly added, “nothing too serious. Just some mild swelling that I’d like to see gone before attempting any kind of corrective surgery.”

As I stepped aside to prepare a hypo of medication that would help with the inflammation, I saw the captain lean down to speak to my patient. “You doing okay?” She asked him gently.

“I’ve had better days.” His tired, fear-filled brown eyes looked up at her. “What happens if he can’t fix my gene? I’m no good to you like this.” He glanced away, “It’ll get worse. I don’t want to end up like Grandfather.”

“Hey,” The Captain gently turned his head toward her and said softly as she leaned even closer, “I won’t let that happen, okay?” She drifted her fingers across his temple, “tell me about him. Your grandfather, before he got sick.”

As Chakotay spoke of a man who loved nature, loved life, loved his wife and family; a man with an irreverent sense of humor and loyal to an extreme, I couldn’t help but think how like the man the Commander really was. The captain laughed at a story about a time when the man had taken Chakotay and his sister camping, then left them alone in the middle of the night, expecting them to find their way home. Chakotay being the oldest had been twelve.

I gave them this private moment; they have so few on the ship. Once their laughter died down, I turned back to give Chakotay a sedative in hopes that he’d sleep for a few hours while his brain healed.

“If you need to get back to the bridge, I’ll be fine.” He told her.

The captain shook her head. “I promised I wouldn’t leave you.”

“You’re feeling guilty.” Chakotay reached for her hand. “Don’t.”

The Captain glanced up at me as I hovered with the hypospray. “Can you leave us?”

“Of course,” I replied with a nod, “I’ll go update the Commander’s medical file. I’ll give you a few minutes.” I moved to my office and activated the monitor. I could still hear them, as my auditory functions were hyperactive whenever I had a potentially unstable patient. I’ve repeated none of the conversations I’ve been privy to, especially theirs, but I’m not ashamed to admit that I listen. I never know when something is said that could be important medically. The captain especially is more apt to speak of her issues when I’m not physically around.

I sighed as they spoke quietly and wished not for the first time in the five years of our journey so far, that they’d just let themselves love each other. It would do wonders to their psyches, and honestly to the morale of the ship as a whole. I opened the commander’s file and started adding to it as they talked. Every so often I’d glance up to make sure they were okay.

“I do feel guilty.” The captain stood slightly, but left her hand laying on Chakotay’s shoulder. “I used your feelings toward me to get you to agree to do this.”

Chakotay shook his head, “In my compromised state, maybe you did.” He crossed his left hand over his chest to lie atop hers, “but I can assure you, had I been thinking clearly, I would have agreed without question; without the coercion.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, “At least I know that you know how I feel about you.”

I hated to interrupt them, but I needed for the commander to sleep. I switched off the monitor, picked up the hypospray and left my office. As I approached, she leaned down and pressed a kiss on his forehead. Then whispered quietly in his ear, “I feel the same way.” 

“I know.”

She laughed lightly and straightened as I administered the drug. “Sleep,” she told my patient as I stepped away. “I’m just going to my quarters to get a book. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

—

The Captain looked up as I approached once the surgery was complete. I didn’t have the best of news, but I hope I have a solution that they both could live with. I took a deep breath, well; I simulated a deep breath. Breathing isn’t necessary for me, but the action gives me a sense of comfort. It helps in times like this. I hesitated for a moment, then pulled her into my office. “As I feared, I could not repress the gene. Something in the way the chaotic beings activated it is preventing its re-suppression.”

She stood quietly for a moment; her eyes resting on the still sleeping form of the Commander. “What does that mean, Doctor?”

I reached and gently lay a hand on her shoulder. “It means that combined with the changed brain patterns thanks to our alien friends' attempts at first contact, and the genetic propensity for the disorder, Commander Chakotay is in the early stages of sensory tremens.” I gave the Captain’s shoulder a squeeze when I heard her swallow a sob.

“What…” she started, but emotion halted her voice. She took in a breath and began again, “what are our options?” 

I didn’t miss the fact that she said ‘our’ options and not ‘his’ options. I have always considered the two of them to be each other’s next of kin — positions aside, I would be a blind holoman not to — and this is no exception. “I have the formula for the medication that would suppress the symptoms, but it would be something he’d have to take for the rest of his life. It won’t stop the progression of the tremens, but it will ease the symptoms in the long run.”

“And without that medication?” She asked.

“The hallucinations will get worse and he’ll eventually forget his reality, preferring to live in whatever new reality his mind is creating. My recommendation…”

She lifted her hand to stop me. “Let’s wait until Chakotay is awake and discuss this with him. Let him make the decision.”

I nodded and walked to the bed my patient lay on to administer the dosage to wake him up. “He’ll be up and around soon. Once he’s fully awake, we’ll go over the options together.”

And go over them we did. I stood aside as the two spoke softly. I muted my auditory functions and focused elsewhere to give them the privacy they deserved. Once the two were ready, they looked to me, and I approached. The commander had decided to go ahead with the medication. I gave him the first dose and sent the prescription formula to his replicator for automatic dispensing twice a day.

Once I knew he understood the long-term necessity of the medication, and his hallucinations had stopped for now, I sent him home with as clean a bill of health as I could; with the caveat he stays off duty for a couple days to rest and adjust to his new routine. I am confident that if the Commander sticks with his medicinal regime, we can hold off the most serious of the symptoms for as long as possible. In the meantime, he’s got friends, he’s got a family here, and he’s got the Captain to give him the support he needs over all. 

I whistled as I cleaned up the now vacant biobed and its surroundings for my next patient as life moved forward one day at a time on board Voyager.

**Author's Note:**

> This also follows along with what the Doctor tells Chakotay. When Chakotay asks, "What will happen to me when they're done?" The Doc replies: "You'll be on Voyager surrounded by friends." He never actually says he can "fix" and re-repress the gene. This is my take on that.


End file.
